In our backyard, a pear tree stands alone, Its age a tale of decades softly told, With every spring, she dons a gown of white, And autumn marks her harvest's fruitful weight. Her blossom's kiss, the air is sweet perfumed, A promise of the warmth that soon will come, Bumblebees with yellow pollen filled, And happy hummingbirds find their tranquil home. Let not your solace be in vain, old tree, Your pride displayed in every fruit you bear, The strength within to live, to bloom, to be, In every heart that passes, let them share. For in your boughs, the whispers of the breeze, Speak volumes of provision without cease.